Afterlife
by BrokenButtercup
Summary: She expected it to be easy. Death, however, had other plans. / Warning inside, be cautious. / Only a one-shot for now. A prequel for another idea I may have later on.


**A\N: **A prequel (of sorts). I kind of wrote this in a mood. A one-shot for now.

**Disclaimer: **Dark themes ahead; blood, self-harm, abuse, death. Be wary. / Also, I don't own anything to do with the Originals. Only my OC.

* * *

New Orleans is lively tonight. Well, it's pretty much a party every night.

It was just your typical Friday evening. The townsfolk were in full swing. The drinks overflowing, the music loud. Any other night, it would have calmed my racing thoughts. I would have lost myself at the bar, went back to some other guy's place, and spent my night wrapped up in his arms, nursing whatever other alcoholic beverage he had in his fridge. It would have been a good night.

But I wasn't having a good night. Lately, I hadn't been.

See, I come from a family that is less than loving. I mean, they say they love me but they actually don't. How can you love the person you continuously hurt? You cannot say you love me and then go out of your way to treat me badly. You can't. It's impossible.

I have a big family. A family that is very close-knit, despite how much we are at odds with each other. We fight a lot. I always end up in the middle of town, trying to drink and sleep my problems away. They make me feel the opposite of how I try to feel. I'm weak and useless. All I do is cause problems and assert my opinion where it is never needed. I suppose it was my fault, though. It always is.

But, I digress.

The party is at its peak. There is laughter and smiles, dancing and talking. The streets are filled to the brim with the joyous wonder that has made New Orleans what it is today. Sometimes, I feel like an outsider walking amongst these people. They enjoy the liveliness, the thrill. I didn't mind it, of course, it was better than listening to the arguments back home. But tonight I was solemn.

I first travel to the liquor store. I knew the owner and though he was already well on his way to closing, he sighed and allowed me to quickly purchase my bottle of bourbon. I didn't care for the taste so much as it reminded me of my father. He never drank, but he was so old-polished, it just seemed like something he would fancy if he was a drinker.

Following my departure from the liquor store, my feet carried me through the crowd to the outskirts of town. It was quiet, eerily so. Sometimes I think I hear people whispering and or whimpers off into the distance, I always chalk it up to my own imagination because, what the hell, right?

I pay the whispers no mind as I head further towards the woods. Normally, I would never wander so far out of town so late, but tonight I've made an exception. Well, it didn't really matter anyway. I was a woman on a mission. Ready to grab the world by its balls and tell it what for.

Somehow, through the trees, I end up on a bridge. I wasn't sure how long I'd been walking or where I was even going, but I allowed my feet to carry me onward. It wasn't like I needed to remember how to get back. There was no going back.

It's cold tonight. I file that away in the back of my head, though I knew the information was useless.

Walking up to the side of the bridge, I peer down at the water below me. It was so silent, not even the crickets were out. There was a small fog rolling through but I paid it no mind. Placing my bagged bottle of whiskey on the rail, I shrugged out of my coat and draped it next to me. A shiver ran down my spine, the chill of the cool evening had already set in and goosebumps ran up my arms. It was okay though. I would be warm soon.

Maybe not for long, but...

Sniffling softly, I grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap off, immediately taking a swig. The burn was intense, though I had expected it to be. I coughed, trying to clear my airways and remedy the burn in the base of my throat.

Eh, I'd had worse.

With a sad smile, I leaned against the railing and looked out into the darkness. It was so quiet, so cold. Nothing moved nor made a sound. It was peaceful, almost. It was nice. The view, the silence. My grandmother probably would've flipped if she knew I was out here alone and drinking. But I felt better out here... sort of. There was no fighting, no screaming. I wasn't being blamed or ignored for my opinion, my existence. No one was hurting me. No one was _hurting_.

A single tear cascaded down my face and I let it. My heartbeat was, surprisingly, calm. It beat with its usual rhythm.

_Ba-dum._

_Ba-dum._

_Ba-dum. _

Out here, I was at peace. Here, I was free.

But the thing about reality was, it always came crashing down on you. It didn't care if you had endured too much. It didn't care if you were on the edge. It was always there, ready to push you off when you least expect it. This time though, I was prepared. I had planned ahead of time and I was ready.

As I pulled the bottle of expensive whiskey out of the brown paper bag, I was once again reminded of my father. Yes, he may have left me growing up but, maybe he was just looking out for himself. He knew how crazy our family was and hightailed it out of there. Honestly, the only thing she was mad about was that he didn't take her with him.

Ah, well.

I sighed and took another swig of the hard liquor before turning around and sliding down the railing to sit upon the cold and damp pavement, staring out at the other side of the bridge without actually seeing.

How strange, I thought, how little I thought about those that had driven me to this point despite them, ya know, _driving _me to this point. It was laughable, really. It almost made me want to stand back up and walk home. But I knew I couldn't. I'd already come this far, endured so much, I couldn't just drop it now. Not after everything.

I did think about the last guy I slept with. It was last week during a particularly bad night. I couldn't remember his name though... Actually, I don't even think I even asked. Even his face came out a blur in my mind. Out of all the men I'd slept with, he had actually been really sweet about our one night stand. All of the guys I'd been with were quick to only think of themselves, ready to just nut and get out. But that man had been different. He had worshipped my body like a King to his Queen. It was almost romantic, if not for the fact that it kind of freaked me out. I didn't deserve to be treated like royalty, to have my body handled first and foremost. It felt good, amazing even. Although, I think I remember crying at some point that night. How embarrassing.

I would have thought it a sweet dream if I didn't wake up the next morning in his bed still. Well, I was alone so maybe the guy wasn't that great after all. Though, it did make for a quick escape so no awkward conversation and the exchange of phone numbers and weird shit after.

Wow. Maybe I should have thanked him.

_Stupid, _I sighed and blinked away the memory. It was getting later and later the more I sat here reminiscing. I should probably stop now, delaying the inevitable didn't mean the inevitable decided to just call it a day and leave.

And never could I.

I was smiling at this point. Looking down at the bottle in my hand, I raised it up and watched with an odd satisfaction as I brought it down onto the concrete, _hard_. A part of the glass shot up and snagged me in my hand but I only grimaced and dropped the broken bottle, watching as the liquid soaked up into pant leg and slowly covered whatever part of the pavement it could.

The slight warmth I'd felt before had quickly dissipated and I was left with that achingly familiar chill that sat on my shoulders. I was tired, so very tired of everything and everyone. It was the type of tired that no amount of sleep could fix. The type of tired no amount of energy drinks could reverse. I was endlessly tired. The bags under my eyes sometimes even make-up couldn't cover.

The type of tired only one thing could fix.

Despite the cut in my hand from the glass, I was perfectly at ease as I picked up another shard on the ground. This one was medium size but enough that I knew would work. I wasn't trying to make a show of anything.

I held the makeshift blade over my arm, over the vein that I knew ran the length of my arm. My smile had dropped and I was just staring blankly down at the glass hovering over my skin. Vertical only. I wasn't looking for attention. Merely a death sentence.

The chill in the air was forgotten as my mind went blank, every thought I'd previously had was gone and all I had was this moment. Without thinking, holding my breath, I dipped the blade lower and with enough force to break skin.

I was ready.

* * *

"H-Hey, sweetie, are you alright?"

_That _didn't sound like death himself. Slowly, I opened my heavy eyes and peered up at the face above my own. I blinked the blurriness away and craned my neck at an angle to get the spots out of the way.

It was a girl, looking down at me with a mix of worry and fear. Huh. From elsewhere, the sound of an engine hummed.

"Can you hear me?" She tried again, reaching slowly down and brushing the back of her hand against my oddly cold face.

It felt nice. Strangely so.

It was still dark out, though it looked like the sun was vast approaching. My head was foggy and my jaw ached. I hissed as I struggled to sit up, seemingly having fallen at some point. Suddenly, the memories of what I did fluttered in the back of my mind and I gasped, startling the woman.

_What the fuck?! _

I _killed _myself. How the hell was I still here?! What the _fuck _was happening right now?!

Too lost in thought, I didn't realize the girl had moved again and was standing up until an odd _scent_ caught my attention. My head snapped up to her and I quickly stood up, like I'd suddenly didn't feel like my body was being held down with rusty nails and weakening joints.

_What the fuck?! _

The sweet smell was coming from _her. _

The girl was speaking again, turned away and saying something about calling the police when I suddenly flashed in front of her. She gasped, placing a hand over her heart as she attempted to control her breathing but I merely stared at her, my head cocked to the side curiously. Why did she smell so good? I licked my dry lips and stepped toward her. She immediately stepped back.

"W-What're you doing?" She questioned, fear traveling back up into her voice.

I don't know why but, I smiled. My jaw ached and I opened my mouth to stretch it out but suddenly, she screamed and ran. That was weird. My body was quick to give chase and the strange ache in my jaw had given way to an unimaginable _hunger_ that, as soon as I grabbed her from behind and shoved my face into the crook of her neck, did I quench the sudden thirst I felt overwhelming me.

Her screams filled my ears but all I could do was _drink._

* * *

"Shit... Marcel's gonna want to see this." Thierry shook his head, staring at the scene before him with a look of astonishment and quickly departed from the woods.

Julia drained every last drop of blood from her poor victim, her eyes cast up to the sky and she laughed, laughed, laughed.


End file.
